


Bound by Duty

by soongtypeprincess



Series: South Downs Retirement [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Gen, Ineffable Godfathers, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Memories of the Flood, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Reconciliation, Running Away, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), allusions to child death (from the Flood), crowley loves kids okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: There was a reason Aziraphale and Crowley never spoke about the Great Flood, and that reason could be the one that drives them apart.





	1. Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries. Enjoy the angst. This will be 3 chapters so bear with me! I'm crying too!
> 
> I don't own these characters!

The water was rising and the children were crying.

He was leading them to the hull where he had secured a hiding place in the hollow of the ark.

“Stay close to me, little ones!” he shouted, carefully guiding them.

The rain was coming down in a violent torrent and the drops stung his face, but he would not succumb to the downpour, no matter how divine its strength.

He was exhausted from carrying what few children he could in his arms at one time as parents handed them over to him. His wings ached from stretching over the ones that were big enough to wade through the water so that he could shield them from the heavy rain.

They were the innocent ones, merely the children of ‘sinners.’ They did not deserve the same fate as their parents.

He defied Her once; what was the harm in doing it again?

“Crawly!” 

The voice was muffled against the cacophony of animals and children screaming, but it came again, this time over his head.

“Crawly, what are you doing?”

He raised his eyes and the angel was hovering above him, his wings shining and casting a light through the dark clouds.

“Aziraphale!” he shouted. “Help me! We’ve got to get the children aboard!”

“It’s not our place, Crawly! The ark is disembarking! We have to leave!”

“They cannot die!”

“It’s part of the Great Plan!”

“To kill innocent children?”

Aziraphale looked to be holding back tears. “Let them be, Crawly! They will be delivered into Her hands!”

Crawly’s golden eyes were now ablaze.

“I will not allow Her the satisfaction, angel!”

The water was up to his waist now and a little girl swam to him and grabbed his hand.

She looked up at them with large brown eyes and cried out.

“Help me, angels!”

Crawly’s heart pounded and he noticed the girl’s grandmother struggling to swim to her.

He pulled the little girl from the water and held her close as he took her grandmother’s hand.

He managed to get them through the door of the hull just before it shut.

He pounded on the ark. “No! There’s still more! For Someone’s sake, let them in!”

“Crawly!” Aziraphale shouted again. “We have to go!”

But he continued hammering his fists on the door until his arms were suddenly grabbed. 

He was lifted upwards and out of the water, Aziraphale holding him tight as he struggled.

His robes were soaked with water and it felt like a weight was trying to draw him back downward, but the angel lifted him higher.

“No! Aziraphale! They’re going to drown!”

“We have to step aside, Crawly!” came the angel’s strained voice. “It’s in Her hands, now!”

“Her murderous hands don’t deserve them!”

They watched as the children reached up for them as they flew higher above the ark.

“Oh...Ga…” Crawly whimpered. “I’m sorry!” he screamed down at them. “I’m---I’m so---”

A gentle hand placed itself on Crawly’s forehead and everything went dark as a clap of thunder vibrated around him.

\-------------------

“No!” 

Crowley shot straight up in bed with a loud gasp. He looked around to find that he was in the master bedroom of their cottage.

It was silent except for the sound of heavy rain on the rooftop.

“Aziraphale…” he whispered in the darkness. He put a hand to his husband’s side of the bed to find it empty.

“Oh…” he sighed as he put his warm face in his hands and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Crowley then got out of bed and slipped on his dressing gown, pausing at the door to listen to the rain.

He sniffed and wiped his cheeks again with his sleeves and went into the hallway.

\------------------

Aziraphale had fallen asleep in his chair with an open book in his lap, but the sudden crash of thunder had awoken him with a start.

“Oh...oh, my,” he muttered as he sat up and put his book on the side table. He looked at his pocket watch and yawned. “Good Lord, it’s nearly one in the morning.”

He reached over to turn off his lamp but stopped when Adam came into the den.

“Hello, my boy,” he greeted him. “What are you doing up?”

Adam was wearing his set of tartan pajamas that Aziraphale gifted him for Christmas and he had wrapped a blue blanket around his shoulders and holding a glass of water.

He squinted his sleepy eyes and said, “What’s wrong with Uncle Ant?”

Aziraphale gave him a confused look. “He’s asleep, dear.”

Adam shook his head. “No, he’s not. He’s in the sunroom.”

“He’s what?” 

“Yeah, he’s just...staring. Like, out the window.”

Aziraphale stood and followed him to the sunroom where Crowley was indeed staring out at the rain. He was standing very close to the paned glass in his black terry cloth dressing gown, his arms hugging his own chest, and his head tilted.

“Adam,” Aziraphale whispered. “I’m going to put him back to bed. He’ll be alright.”

“What if he’s sleepwalking, Uncle Ezra?” Adam asked, his voice low, too. “You’re not supposed to wake a sleepwalker.”

“He’s not sleepwalking, lad,” he assured him. “It’s probably a small case of insomnia.”

“Insomnia? Uncle Ant? Seriously?”

“Go to bed, please. I’ll take care of him.”

He left Adam’s side and slowly approached his husband.

Crowley’s eyes were blank as he stared out the window, his lips slightly parted and his face pale.

“Dearest?” 

He touched him gently on the shoulder and Crowley turned to him.

His cheeks were wet with tears and Aziraphale wiped them away.

“My darling, what is the matter?” 

Crowley pressed his forehead against his and sniffed.

“They’re dead.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “Dead? Who’s dead?”

“Children...s’raining...they’re gone.”

“Dear, Adam is fine and I’m sure his friends are, too.”

“No...the _children_ ,” he whimpered. His chin trembled. “All of them…”

Aziraphale sighed and gently kissed him. “Darling, come to bed. It’s late. You had a dream, didn’t you? That’s all. The children are fine.”

“Why did you stop me?”

Aziraphale frowned. “Stop you?”

“We could have saved them, angel. It was raining...they were drowning…they didn’t deserve the same fate as their parents. They were innocent.”

It finally dawned on Aziraphale what Crowley was referring to, and he pulled away. 

“Oh...Crowley...is this about...The Flood?”

He closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

“Dearest,” Aziraphale whispered. “That was so, _so_ long ago. Why are you thinking about this _now_?”

“Why’d you stop me?” he repeated, another tear running down his cheek.

“Love...you know why.”

“I could have saved them.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” Aziraphale caught the despair in his eyes and stroked his cheek. “You...saved a few of them, though.”

Crowley frowned. “Not enough.”

“Darling--”

“Why didn’t you help me?”

“Crowley,” he said in a soft voice, “I was bound by my duties. I had no authority to--"

“Your dutiesss?” he hissed. “Your duties put blood on your hands.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I am well aware of that.”

“Then why, angel? Why didn’t you do anything?”

“It was not in my capacity to stop it! We were not allowed to interfere.”

“They shut the doors on them, angel.”

Aziraphale paused and licked his lips. “Yes…”

Crowley glared at him and his breath hitched.

“You…”

Aziraphale stared back at him, his countenance unchanged.

“You did that...didn’t you? _You_ shut the door.”

The angel gulped and looked down at his hands. “Yes, I did.”

Crowley’s eyes grew wider.

“You...how _could_ you?” His voice was tight as his eyes welled up with tears once more.

Aziraphale looked at him again. His eyes were growing red with his own tears. 

“I was ordered to do so. She saw what you were doing...I beseeched Her to understand...but I had to follow through, Crowley.”

They stared at one another as the rain grew heavier.

“You…” Crowley repeated as he clenched one of his fists. “You murderer!”

“No, darling...please understand---”

“Oh, I understand! That’s the problem, Aziraphale! I understand _completely!_ ”

“Lower your voice!” he demanded, but Crowley grasped his waistcoat and pushed him against the French doors. 

“You weak excuse for an angel!” he growled. “For 6000 years, you’ve been nothing but a divine bootlicker, always using your ‘duties to Her’ as an excuse for your cowardliness! You’re a fucking disgrace, you are!”

“Crowley, dear…” his husband said in a calm voice. “Be careful. You might say something thing you’ll regret.”

“Oh, I regret, angel! I regret the day I crawled up that Eastern Wall! I regret saving your miserable arse for centuries! I regret letting you put a ring on my fin--”

He stopped his words, but he could see the damage was done.

Aziraphale’s tears were flowing, but he did not break eye contact.

“Shit…” he said as he let go of him and stepped back. “Angel...I’m--”

“You don’t think I have _my_ regrets, Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice trembled as he glared at him. “It was a different time in Heaven, then. I couldn’t go against Her plans, no matter how much I disagreed! Surely, you have felt that way about your own hellish duties!”

Crowley looked away and was quiet as more tears fell.

“If I were a different angel then,” he continued, “I would have been in the waters with you. I would have gladly let you save every single one of them. I would have taken...all those...innocent children...all those babies...” Aziraphale’s voice broke and covered his mouth with his hand as he sobbed.

Crowley gulped as he reached out and took his arm.

However, Aziraphale pulled away from him as he continued to weep.

“Angel…”

“What gives you the _right_ , Crowley? Do you know how many children I’ve witnessed walk through the gates of Heaven because I was bound by my duties? The children of the Great Flood were only the beginning for me! Every innocent child slain in all the Holy Wars...that I attended over, by Her orders...for centuries. Innocent lives…lost...wasted...because of Her Great Plan and my place in it? You don’t know what regret _is!_ ”

Crowley wiped his cheeks and approached him again.

“Aziraphale, I’m sorry.” 

“Get away from me.” He walked out of the sunroom and disappeared into the hallway where he came face to face with Adam.

He, too, was crying.

“Oh...my dear boy,” Aziraphale said. “I’m so sorry you had to hear all of that.”

Adam clutched his glass of water to his chest and stomped to his bedroom where he slammed the door.

Aziraphale wiped his eyes and went into his study, where he also shut the door behind him.

Crowley turned back to the window and heard the muffled sound of his husband’s sobbing as he stared at the rain again.


	2. Asking Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember if I pointed this out or not, but Adam is 14 years old.

The light of the rising sun beamed over the meadow across from the cottage. There had once been sheep raised on that property, but all that was left of it now was a rusted barbed wire with rotted wooden posts.

Crowley had made a comment about using that property to raise sheep of their own, or perhaps a cow or two. 

_“Imagine it, angel,” he said. “Fresh milk every morning from our own dairy cow.”_

_“You do know the cow has to have a baby first?” Aziraphale told him. “Cows are not magical milk machines, dear. A mother can’t produce milk without a baby.”_

_“Even better, love! We’ll have a bull, as well.”_

_“And who’s going to take care of these cows?”_

_“We are, of course! You would look adorable in a pair of dungarees and wellies.” He bent to kiss his temple as his angel giggled._

Aziraphale sighed as the memory faded, and he put on his coat as he opened the French doors to the back patio.

“Good morning, dears,” he greeted their plants. “What a wet night it was, yes? Oh, my poor daisies! You’re absolutely drenched.”

He picked up the pot of red daisies and set them on their wooden bench under the awning. They were wilting from the weight of last night’s rain and their soil was soaked through.

Aziraphale gently cupped one of the flowers. “Not to worry,” he whispered. “The sun is coming up. You’ll be your perky selves by early afternoon.”

He shook the wet leaves of his geraniums, yawning all the while as he pruned off the dead blooms.

He had stayed in his study all night, not sleeping and trying to concentrate on reading. He didn’t have the motivation to finish _A Tale of Two Cities_ again, so he put it down and, hesitantly, opened his Bible.

He owned many versions, of course, but the one he preferred was his original King James that he had kept in pristine condition, wrapped in plastic, for so many years. However, even though the bookshop had been restored and updated after the fire and after the cancelled Apocalypse, something had happened to its bindings.

Aziraphale fixed it up as best as he could, and it was still legible, but he always read it slowly, taking time to turn the pages over so as to not have them crumble under his fingertips. 

He opened it to the Book of Genesis, Chapter 7, and skimmed its verses.

 _“_ **_21_ ** _And all flesh died that moved upon the earth, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth, and every man:_

 **_22_ ** _All in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, died._

 **_23_ ** _And every living substance was destroyed which was upon the face of the ground, both man, and cattle, and the creeping things, and the fowl of the heaven; and they were destroyed from the earth: and Noah only remained_ **_alive_ ** _, and they that were with him in the ark.”_

The verses ran through his head as he prepared the percolator for coffee. Aziraphale had read the Book of Genesis many times, but when he caught himself questioning Her motives as to why Noah’s family was so special, why the children on the Earth had to die, and why She had chosen the Angel of the Eastern Gate to preside over the Great Flood, he would close the Bible.

He stared out of the kitchen window at the chirping robins gathering around the bird feeder that was full of rain water.

Aziraphale sighed and went to the front door to put on his galoshes. He glanced at the mahogany table where they would place bits and bobs they would find on their walks.

There was a small bowl filled with tiny pine cones and misshapen acorns. There was a twig of black alder leaves that Crowley had planned on using for a decoupage he was working on, but it had sat there for so long, the leaves were beginning to dry out.

The table was also a place where Crowley would leave his car keys, and this morning, Aziraphale noticed that they were gone.

His heart sank but he opened the front door so that he could tend to the nagging robins that were still chirping for their breakfast.

After emptying the feeder of water and replenishing the bird seed, Aziraphale heard the excited clacking of dog claws running down the wooden floor of the hallway.

He grinned as Dog flew past him, jumping over the three front steps of the porch and rushing to the birch tree he used as a lavatory.

After relieving himself, Dog ran in circles in the soft, wet grass, rolling over multiple times as he yipped and grunted.

“He likes being out here,” came Adam’s voice behind Aziraphale. “There’s something about the air, I think.”

“And the beach, dear boy.”

“Yeah, I remember when we first came to visit,” he smiled. “He had never been to a beach before. I thought he would never stop running.”

Aziraphale pulled off his wet galoshes and set them by the door to dry. “Coffee should be ready, if you’d like some,” he said as he put on his slippers.

“Yes, please,” he replied.

They quietly sat at the breakfast table with their mugs. The front door was left open, but Dog was still rushing around outside, zipping between the trees and chasing the squirrels. The robins he left alone because he had once had a quarrel with a robin that left him with a well-pecked backside.

Adam looked at Aziraphale who was still stirring his coffee slowly with a spoon.

He broke the silence and asked, “Where’s Uncle Ant?”

Aziraphale sighed, but did not look at him. He cleared his throat.

“He’s gone, dear,” he replied, his voice taut.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. His car keys are gone so I assume he took the Bentley out, but...I didn’t see a note anywhere.”

“Is he coming back?”

He watched as the angel sighed again, his breath hitching. “I don’t know…”

Adam saw him wipe at his left eye. 

“He’ll come back, Uncle Ezra,” he assured him. “Maybe...I don’t know, maybe he just took a drive. When Mum and Dad argue, sometimes Dad will take a drive. He says it helps him think things over and---”

“Your parents are arguing again?”

Adam smirked. “They never stop.”

“Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry about last night. We don’t normally fight like that. After Anthony and I married, we promised that we would talk more. Not that we never talked about things, but there were _certain_ things that we never...brought up.

“For a long time,” he continued, “we had to keep our emotions to ourselves, due to our superiors. But after it all ended, after we finally felt safe enough to express ourselves, I thought it would be an easy thing to do, to tell him everything.”

He paused to sip his coffee.

“I love Anthony very much, and expressing our love for one another wasn’t the problem, but there were things that I did not want him to know, and last night...I don’t know what brought back those memories for him, but that was definitely one thing about me that I did not want to...tell him…”

He paused again when his voice strained and a choking sound came from him. “Oh, Adam...the look on his face. It was like I betrayed him. And perhaps I did, in a way.”

Adam saw a tear fall down his cheek and got out of his chair. He approached Aziraphale and leaned into him to embrace his shoulders.

The angel grinned and patted his arm. 

They remained that way for a moment until Adam sat in the chair next to him.

“Uncle Ezra,” he said, “why did God do it? Why _did_ there have to be a flood? I never understood.”

“Neither did I,” Aziraphale replied. “I was still a young angel, then. To me, Her Word was Truth. We did not question it. Well...out loud, anyway.”

“You wondered, too, then?”

Aziraphale took another big gulp of coffee. “Since the Garden I’ve been wondering. Since Adam and Eve were cast out, since Cain killed Abel, the Flood...the Crucifixion…”

“You were at the Crucifixion?”

“We both were. In fact, Anthony knew Jesus quite well. I think after that was when he put himself into his work, even though he had to build up the nerve to do it sometimes. You see...Anthony fell because he wondered out loud. He directly defied Her and…”

“But, you _married_ him, Uncle Ezra. A fallen angel, a demon. Yet...youhaven’t fallen.”

“Haven’t I?” 

Adam stared at him. “I don’t think you have. And if Uncle Ant fell, then he didn’t fall very far, did he? I mean, he was able to marry _you_ and---”

“Love, you’re asking questions that I don’t have an answer to.”

“Then, why don’t you ask _Her_?” he demanded.

Aziraphale looked at him, surprised, and then shook his head. “I don’t dare question _this_. Never...never, ever. I fear if I do, then we’ll be torn apart.”

“Well, you have been! Uncle Ant’s gone! Not because of what _you_ did, but what _She_ did! If it's Her Great Plan to bring you together just to separate you, then that’s bullshit!”

“Adam, please.” 

“And me? She knew I would be born! Knew that I had the power to end everything!”

“But you didn’t, dear boy! You stopped everything and made it just a little bit better!”

“If it were any better, then my parents wouldn’t be fighting and Uncle Ant would be sitting with us right now!”

Aziraphale reached out and gently touched his shoulder. 

“Adam, you did _not_ cause any of this. Every married couple goes through rough patches and---”

The boy put his head down on the table and wept. “I like coming out here because I’m not in the middle of their fights!” he wailed. “I don’t like being at home; I want to live here!”

“Adam, you know you can stay with us as long as you want,” Aziraphale assured him, “but you have a home and your parents love you.” He squeezed his shoulder. “And _we_ love you dearly. You are not the reason that---”

“I thought I made everything better,” Adam whimpered.

Dog suddenly appeared under the table, licking his boy’s hands. Adam stroked Dog’s wet face as he whined and tried to jump up.

Adam giggled as he lifted Dog from the floor and put him in his lap where he received slobbery kisses to his tear-stained cheeks.

“Dog!” he laughed through his tears. “Stop it! You’re all wet and smelly!”

Aziraphale smiled as he miracled a towel over Dog and Adam wrapped him in it to dry him.

“Everything will be alright, dear,” he told him as he stood. “It will all work out.”

“You sound like my mum,” Adam mumbled. 

Aziraphale smirked and kissed the top of his head.

“Ugh, Ezraaa,” Adam groaned, rubbing the spot where he was kissed.

“I’m sorry,” he giggled. “Sometimes I forget you’re an easily embarrassed adolescent now.”

Adam smiled as Dog tried to lick him again.

“How about some breakfast, hm?” Aziraphale asked. “I can fry up some eggs and sausages.”

Dog yipped.

“Yes, for you, too. But you can’t sit at the table.”

Adam laughed as he continued to dry him off with the towel. 

“You need a bath,” he told him, prompting Dog to give him the most pitiful eyes a Hellhound could muster.

\--------------------------------

Crowley remembered the first time he and Aziraphale visited Kew Gardens.

They had spent all day there, going into every house, walking along the Lake and Sackler Crossing, taking their time to explore every garden and taking many pictures. Crowley had used a few of their photos as references for his paintings: rhododendrons, gourds, pink and yellow roses. He even had a rough sketch of Aziraphale sitting on a concrete bench in the Queen’s Garden near a cherub fountain.

However, the Waterlily House was Aziraphale’s favorite. It was hard to pull him away from the spectacle of giant lily pads and fragrant flowers, but Crowley indulged him, passing the time taking pictures of him with his mobile.

It was here that Crowley now stood, staring into the pool of black water, tiny fish popping up every now and then to catch an errant fly. He was thumbing through the album of photos on his phone of their visit here three years ago while The Them were visiting.

The next day of their visit would see them at the London Zoo, where Crowley had tempted one of the employees to suddenly shoo away all of the visitors in the Butterfly Paradise due to “an important event.”

The temptation had worked and the employee took her lunch early which left Crowley and Aziraphale alone, surrounded by exotic plants and thousands of butterflies.

_“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale sighed. “This reminds me so much of The Garden, before...well, everything.”_

_“It truly was Paradise, eh?” Crowley said, his voice slightly shaking. He had his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket and his fingers were curled around a small velvet box._

_“Are we the only ones here?” Aziraphale asked._

_Crowley feigned being curious, looking around._

_Crowley shrugged. “Ah, well, could be a slow day today.”_

_“On a Saturday?”_

_A black and red butterfly suddenly landed on Crowley’s shoulder and Aziraphale giggled as he took a picture with his mobile._

_“You’ve made a friend already, love,” he said._

_“Ha...yeah..._ callicore cynosura, _” Crowley said. “From Peru, I think.”_

_“You’re so clever, dearest.”_

_A light blue butterfly with shimmering white edges settled on the angel’s left hand and he smiled as he examined it._

_“Oh! What’s this one?”_

_Crowley quickly glanced at it, but then was distracted by the light in Aziraphale’s eyes._

_“Um...i-its…” He cleared his throat. "_ Polyommatus Icarus _. Native to England and...some parts...of Ireland, I think.”_

_Aziraphale gave him a smile but then lightly gasped when both butterflies took flight at the same time, circling upwards together and perching on the same leaf._

_“That seems like odd behavior, doesn’t it?”_

_Crowley cleared his throat again and stepped closer. “Aziraphale?”_

_“Yes, dear?”_

_He licked his lips and squeezed the ring box in his pocket._

_“There’s something I’d like to ask you.”_

Crowley noticed a boy suddenly standing next to him, staring up at him with a blank expression.

He didn’t acknowledge him as he locked his mobile and put it back in his jacket. Crowley leaned forward and rested his hands on the edge of the lily pad pool and sighed.

The child imitated him and Crowley smirked.

They stood in silence for a moment until the boy spoke.

“Hello, Nanny.”


	3. Forgiveness

Crowley’s skin prickled at the name he hadn’t heard in three years, and he slowly turned his head to find the fresh-faced boy he had known for eleven years.

He couldn’t stop his smile. “Why...by my stars,” Crowley said. “Young Warlock. Oh, but you’ve grown.”

It was true. The child was taller now, almost up to his former nanny’s shoulders. His green eyes were brighter, accentuated with the light application of black eyeliner. He was wearing a navy blue Polo and dark blue jeans with red Dr. Martens boots. His hair was longer and was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and it was now a dark auburn with traces of bright red.

“You changed your hair,” Crowley said.

Warlock grinned. “So did you.”

“That’s right, yeah,” he said as he ran his fingers through his short locks. 

“My dad hates it.”

“What’s that?”

“My hair,” Warlock said. “He wants me to cut it. ‘High and tight, son! That’s how a man should wear his hair!’” He snorted. “Thinking of dying it orange next.”

“You _should_ ,” Crowley said. 

Warlock gave him a sly grin. “I knew it all along, you know?”

Crowley’s eyes widened behind his shades. He cleared his throat. “Knew what, my dear?”

“That you weren’t really Scottish.”

They stared at one another until Crowley threw his head back and let out a sharp laugh, which made Warlock giggle.

“You...you…” Crowley was at a loss for words.

“I wasn’t going to tell you, Nanny,” Warlock told him, “because I always liked it.”

“You clever boy, you.”

Warlock’s grin faded and he placed his hands in his pockets. “Oh, um...I don’t really identify as that. Not anymore.”

Crowley nodded. “I see. What would you prefer?”

“They. Dad doesn’t really like it. Not that I ever expected him to and I don’t care. He’s gone most of the time, anyway.” They kicked a pebble. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind, dear. You may still call me Nanny, if you wish.”

Warlock glanced down at Crowley’s left hand that was tucked into a trouser pocket and noticed the silver ring set with a dark blue gemstone.

“You got married,” they said.

Crowley looked at his ring. “Yeah, I did.”

“That's lapis lazuli,” Warlock pointed out. “Your stone, I mean.” They caught their nanny’s grin and they shrugged. “I like rocks and stuff. I have a lapis, too, but it isn’t as blue as that.”

“My husband has a deep red rhodonite on a gold band. I got it for him years before I proposed.”

“Brother Francis, you mean?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m your clever little hellspawn, remember?” 

Crowley felt a sudden swell of pride in his chest. “That you are, my dear.”

Warlock looked out at the lily pads for a moment and then turned back to Crowley.

“Have you seen the carnivorous plants they have here?”

Crowley had, of course, seen them, but he shook his head. “Why, no I haven’t! Carnivorous, eh?”

Warlock tilted their head. “Wanna come and see?”

After perusing through the Tropical Nursery, with Warlock informing Nanny of all their knowledge on pitcher plants, Venus fly-traps, and sundews, they stopped at one of the cafes for tea and cake.

Warlock ordered a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream and chocolate shavings while Crowley ordered tea with three sugars. There was a small plate between them that held a tall slice of strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting, and Warlock was digging into it like it was the last slice of cake on Earth.

Warlock explained that they were there with their mother for the day.

“Some kind of ladies gardening group or something like that,” they said before wiping frosting from their mouth. “Mom tries to keep busy since Dad’s in America more. Kinda sucks though...wandering around with them while they talk about roses. I mean...roses are alright, but this place is huge! I wanted to explore. So, Mom’s gonna text me when she’s done.”

Crowley watched as Warlock took a big gulp of their hot chocolate.

They licked their lips and asked, “Do you still live in London?”

“No, we live in Sussex now,” Crowley answered. “Good place for retirement, you know.”

“Never been to Sussex,” Warlock said.

“Well, we live in the South Downs, close to the beach.”

“Aw, man.” Warlock spooned up some of the whipped cream from their drink. “I’d love to go to the beach again. Remember when we went to Blackpool?” They paused and smirked. “Oh wait...you had left by then.”

Crowley took a sip of his tea.

Warlock’s eyes suddenly lit up and they asked, “Is Brother Francis here, too?”

Crowley gulped and slowly shook his head. “No, he’s, um...back home.”

“Why didn’t he come with you? He’d like it here. He’s a gardener, for someone’s sake.”

The demon couldn’t help but grin at Warlock’s addition, knowing that they had heard Nanny Ashtoreth say it plenty of times.

“To tell the truth, dear,” he said, “we had a row last night. I took a drive to calm down and...I ended up here.”

Warlock propped their elbows on the table and put their chin in their hands. 

“Hmm...are you going to go home after this?”

Crowley nodded. “I am. It was just a misunderstanding. We don’t argue a lot, but I lost my temper this time...said some things that hurt him.”

“Do you still love each other?”

Crowley’s answer was swift. “Very much so.”

Warlock picked up their cocoa and a smile slowly spread across their face.

“What is it?” Crowley asked them.

Warlock shrugged. “Hot chocolate always reminds me of Brother Francis. He made the best, remember?”

Crowley smiled. “Of course I do, love. He still makes it.”

“Really?” Their eyes grew wide and then they sighed. “Damn. I’d give anything to drink it again. No tea room in London makes it like his, and I’ve tried a few times to make it, too, but it’s just not the same.” 

They took their tea spoon and scooped up another generous helping of whipped cream. They lightly bounced it against the rest of the pillowly mound in their chocolate. 

“Hey, Nanny. Do you remember when I tried to run away from home?”

Crowley sat up straighter and folded his hands on the table as he smiled. “I do remember. You made it as far as the security gate, just up the drive.”

“I climbed over the first gate,” they added, “then it began to rain.”

“Your mother was beside herself. So was I.”

Crowley noticed that Warlock looked away for a moment before dropping their spoon into their chocolate.

He sighed. “But, I knew that you wouldn’t get far.”

“I hid from the guard,” they said. “Bastard said he’d tell my dad so I kicked him in the shin and ran off. Went to Brother Francis’s little house and he let me in.”

“You were soaked through, dear,” Crowley said. 

Warlock nodded. “You came to the house right after he found me, too. I knew you would, though. You always showed up when I needed you.”

Crowley shifted in his chair.

“You wrapped me in a giant pink towel,” they continued. “It was warm. Like it was fresh from the dryer. You weren’t even upset. You said you would have rather known my plans and packed me a better dinner.” They paused when Crowley giggled in amusement. “Brother Francis conjured up a fire, too, and we all sat beside it.”

Crowley’s head snapped up when he heard the word ‘conjured.’ He cleared his throat as Warlock stared at him.

“I know what he was,” Warlock said. “Well... _is_. I’ve known for years what you are, Nanny.”

“And what are we, my clever little hellspawn?”

Warlock gave him an excited smile. 

“You’re demons, of course.”

Crowley’s eyes widened, not out of shock but of genuine amusement. He suddenly laughed aloud and Warlock joined him.

After they settled, Crowley brought a hand up to his sunglasses, but paused. After a moment of Warlock intensely watching him, he slowly lowered his glasses and saw his ward beaming at him.

“I knew it,” they whispered. “I knew your eyes were like that. For years, I kept telling myself that it was all a dream, but...I really did see it. That’s why Brother Francis flipped his lid that night when you showed up! I remember him telling you something like ‘where’s your glasses?’ but...”

Crowley noticed Warlock’s eyes becoming misty and he pushed his glasses up and got out of his chair to move it closer to them.

“Tell me,” he said.

Warlock looked at him. “I sat in your lap, in Francis’s old rocker, and I looked up at you, to see if you were cross with me. But you smiled at me and your eyes literally glowed. They were amazing, and I felt...safe.”

Crowley’s own eyes began to water as he wrapped his hands around his tea cup.

He remembered that night very well. He went in to check on the six year old to find their bed empty and Crowley’s heart pounded in his chest.

It wasn’t that he was thinking that he lost track of the Antichrist, but that Nanny’s little one was missing, the little one that would tug on her heavy black dress when they wanted to be held, the child who always beat her at Hide and Seek even though they were never good at hiding (toddlers never are). 

The child who would cry out in the night for their nanny when a nightmare plagued their sleep, and Nanny would tell them that they were more powerful and fiercer than any monster in the Universe.

There were even moments when the child, as the years went by, would seek out their nanny when their parents would argue, seeking solace in her arms. She would tell them, “You will never be like them, my darling. You are well above their status on this Earth, and in time, you will triumph over them.”

Little did Crowley know just how much Nanny’s words meant to them.

“Why did you leave?” Warlock asked.

The question shot into Crowley like a flaming arrow.

He didn’t know how or if he should explain the real reason he had suddenly disappeared, why Nanny and the gardener vanished without a trace from the life of the child Crowley had practically raised.

It’s not that Crowley never thought about Warlock after the cancelled Armageddon. He and Aziraphale spoke of him every now and again. The angel once mentioned that perhaps Mrs. Dowling suspected the nanny and the gardener were having some sort of illicit affair and ran away together.

Crowley would only nod and silently agree. After all, it was a far better idea than Warlock finding out that they were the _wrong child_.

“Nannies do not stay when a child has grown older. They aren’t needed anymore.”

“ _I_ needed you,” Warlock said softly. 

A tear suddenly fell down Crowley’s cheek and he quickly wiped it away.

“I’m so sorry, dearest,” he whispered.

Warlock raised their bright eyes to him. 

“You never said good-bye.”

Crowley’s phone vibrated in his jacket. He knew it was Aziraphale, but he didn’t move to answer it.

When the vibrating stopped, he sighed. “It was...it was very hard.”

This was a lie, as much as he hated to admit it, but Crowley couldn’t tell them that there had been other things on his mind during that time than how an eleven year old child would react when they couldn’t find Nanny.

“I wanted to show you one of my birthday presents,” they said, poking their cake with their fork. “But when I went into the house, your room was empty. So, I went out to the garden, thinking you were there with Brother Francis...but that house was empty, too. I looked everywhere for you.”

Crowley handed them a handkerchief when small tears fell down their cheek.

“What was your present?” he asked.

Warlock wiped their eyes. “It was a bow and arrow set. A _real_ one, too. Not a stupid plastic toy one. I practiced with it a lot. I even took archery lessons. I’m very good, Nanny. I’ve won gold medals. Three years in a row!”

Crowley smiled. “That’s wonderful. I’m awfully proud of you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You always made me proud. You were quite a precocious one; so much, in fact, you even kept poor Nanny on her toes.” He laughed. “Oh, but you were such a clever child. Always curious, always asking questions.” 

Crowley stopped and cleared his throat, trying to keep another tear from falling. “You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger.”

This made Warlock smile. “I do?”

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “Brother Francis would agree with me, too.”

“Did you have a nanny?”

“No, love. I had to look after myself.”

Warlock wiped their eyes once more with the handkerchief and handed it back to Crowley, but he stopped them.

“Keep it,” he said. “Francis won’t mind.”

Warlock looked at the handkerchief and noticed the initial _A_ stitched in one corner in blue thread.

“What’s the _A_ stand for?” they asked.

Crowley smiled as he thought a moment. “Angel.”

Warlock’s eyes widened again and they nodded. 

“Of course,” they whispered.

They put the handkerchief in their pocket. “I’m, um…I’m happy to see you, Nanny.”

Crowley nodded. “Likewise,” he said in a quiet voice. 

“I know you taught me that forgiveness is meaningless, since I am more powerful than any mercy that can be given.”

Crowley giggled.

“But, I forgive you for leaving. Francis, too.”

Warlock’s phone suddenly buzzed and they picked it up from the table and sighed.

“Your mother?” Crowley asked as he signaled their server for the bill.

“Yeah...I have to go.”

Crowley escorted them outside of the cafe and walked a short distance with them. He pulled out his wallet and handed them a card.

“What’s this?” Warlock asked.

“It’s our address,” he replied, “and our mobiles, my email. Francis doesn’t have an email yet; I’m working on that, though.”

They shared another smile, and then Warlock looked around.

“Can I, uh…” 

They opened their arms and Crowley grinned.

“Of course, my little one.”

He pulled them to him and they held each other in a tight embrace.

“Don’t leave again…” Warlock muttered. “Please…”

Crowley stroked their hair. “I won’t, my perfect little devil.”

Warlock laughed as Crowley kissed the top of their head.

“You call me any time.”

“I will, Nanny.”

“Write to us. Francis would love to hear from you.”

“Can I come to the beach someday?”

“ _Any_ day, my dear.”

Warlock squeezed him once more and pulled away.

Crowley moved their hair away from their face.

“Go easy on your mum, eh?” he said.

Warlock sniffed back more tears and nodded.

“And stay curious. Will you do that for me?”

They nodded again.

“See you later, Nanny.”

They put their hands in their pockets and walked away, looking back again to wave.

Crowley spent the next few hours sitting in the Queen’s Garden, watching all of the passersby take pictures and walk with their children.

When he finally returned to the Bentley, the sun was almost set, and he checked his phone before starting the car.

There was a missed call and a text message from Aziraphale, as he had ascertained, and he unlocked the mobile.

The text read, “Darling, where are you? I’m awfully worried.”

Crowley sighed and tossed his mobile onto the seat and drove home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that since this chapter was quite long that I'd add a fourth chapter. That will be up soon!


	4. Reunion

Crowley drove slower as he pulled onto the street that led to their cottage. There was a left turn at the end of this road that would take him another mile away from their neighbors where they resided on a private drive that was adjacent to an old sheep pasture.

He had searched online for cottages when they discussed traveling to South Downs for their seasonal holidays. Holidays turned into every other month, then monthly, then to almost every weekend. The one he had found wasn’t on the beach, but it piqued his interest, and Aziraphale found it charming and quaint. 

Their usual holiday destination eventually became their permanent home.

It was his angel’s idea to go to South Downs for their holidays. The city was becoming too loud with construction of new buildings and streets being repaired. It was noisy and noise was something that had a tendency to get to Crowley. It made him anxious and it made him feel small. The quiet haven of the bookshop was the only place he could escape, but even Soho had succumbed to the noise.

They had been married three months then and still resided in their respective flats. It was something they were accustomed to, just as it had always been, with Crowley stopping by in the early evening to take his angel out for dinner at The Ritz and then a nightcap back at the bookshop with Crowley always staying the night.

The only thing about their routine that changed was Azirphale’s visits to Madame Tracy’s flat for tea every Thursday. Crowley didn’t mind; he knew of the connection his angel and Tracy had formed during the end of the world. Aziraphale delighted in her collection of mystical objects and prophecy books, and the tarot cards, especially, were something that intrigued him.

She had offered several times to do a reading for him, but Aziraphale, ever the careful one, always politely declined.

_“Afraid of the results, are you?” Crowley teased him when she offered again._

_This particular afternoon was one of the rare ones when he would accompany Aziraphale to Tracy’s for tea. Not that she didn’t mind the both of them visiting, but Crowley wasn’t one to intrude, especially with his husband’s developing friendship. So he would indulge the angel when he would insist that he join them._

_“Not at all,” Aziraphale told him, stirring his tea. “She can read yours, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”_

_“Well, what if the cards say I married the wrong angel?”_

_Aziraphale smirked. “Then I would know that tarot was indeed a sham.”_

_Crowley giggled and leaned toward him, kissing his cheek then his jawline and down to his neck._

_Tracy returned with Jammie Dodgers neatly arranged on a white china plate with pink roses._

_She caught Crowley in the act and playfully scolded, “Oh, what’s all this hanky panky now?”_

_Crowley instantly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, turning a slight shade of red._

_Aziraphale beamed. He loved when Crowley blushed._

_Tracy set down the plate of biscuits and took a seat at the table._

_“Help yourselves, dearies,” she told them. “The Sergeant will be out for quite a while this afternoon.”_

_“More protesting?” Crowley asked._

_“Oh, no! He doesn’t dabble much in that anymore. No, I sent him on a few errands for me, to keep him occupied. He’s been…” She paused and gave them a coy smile. “Well...very_ restless _lately, if you know what I mean.”_

_Aziraphale’s eyes widened with surprise as Crowley tried not the laugh._

_“Restless, you say?” he asked._

_Tracy giggled. “Oh, yes, my dear. I don’t know what it is. The waning of the moon, the planets in a certain alignment....maybe I’m giving off stronger pheromones. Not that I’m complaining; it’s very nice. But I have to give him errands just to get his randy hands off me. A girl can only take so much!”_

_Crowley stuffed a biscuit into his mouth._

_“Oh, well, enough about me,” Tracy smiled. “Tell me about your upcoming beach trip. I haven’t been to the beach in years!”_

Crowley took the left turn and drove about half a mile before stopping. 

He sat in the car as Freddy Mercury sang about him being a great pretender, and he let go of the steering wheel and stared into the darkness beyond the Bentley’s headlights.

He had been gone all day. He knew that Aziraphale was worried, perhaps even more cross than he was the night before.

Crowley had hurt him on purpose. His temper had flared and he reached into the blackest pit of his demonic being and said the one thing that he knew would break his husband’s heart.

_“I regret letting you put a ring on my finger!”_

The heat had left his chest when the tears flowed from his angel’s eyes. He could see--no...he could _feel_ his heart break.

They had sworn before they married that they would talk to each other, be open and honest, even if it caused them pain. They would be stronger because of their honesty, and it would perhaps heal the wounds of the past.

But what good does it do when wounds are reopened?

That’s what Aziraphale’s honesty about The Flood did to Crowley. It not only reopened that scarred memory; it caused Crowley’s personal wrath towards a supposedly loving God to find a new target in his husband, the angel who had stuck by him for 6000 years, not because of his bound duties.

Because of love.

That’s why he had first denied him a task in Edinburgh. Aziraphale was afraid of losing him if Hell found out about the Arrangement.

And why he denied him the Holy Water, only for a century later to be holding a thermos-full of it with a gentle warning to not unscrew the cap. 

And why the angel decided that there was only one side for the both of them. 

Theirs.

Crowley took off his sunglasses and took a deep breath to stave off the hot tears in his eyes, but a few escaped. His breath hitched as he wiped his cheeks, leaning back against the seat to rest his head.

Meanwhile, Freddy continued to sing.

“ _Too real is this feeling of make believe,_

_Too real when I feel what my heart can conceal…”_

His mobile dinged beside him and he wiped his eyes and picked it up to see a message from a new number.

He opened the message and grinned.

“Hey, Nanny!” it said. “It’s your lil hellspawn haha. It was cool seeing you again. Thanks for your number! Hope you like memes lol. Anyway, tell Francis hi for me? I’m writing him a letter, you said he’d like it. Ttyl”

He sniffed and, still grinning, he replied, “Hello, lil one. It was lovely seeing you, too. And yes, I love memes! Francis doesn’t quite get them, so don’t send him any. He’ll only ask me what it is haha! He would love it VERY MUCH if you he got a letter from you. It would make his day. Now, off to bed with you! -- Nanny”

His mobile dinged again.

“Haha! Awww, just one more hour? Plz?”

“Okay, one more hour, love. But no more than that. Lil devils need to rest too.”

“Okay, Nanny.”

Crowley giggled and set the phone on the seat again.

He put the Bentley into drive and continued on his way home.

\-----------------------

Aziraphale wrapped the tartan blanket around Adam’s sleeping body. The boy had fallen asleep on the sofa as they watched a David Attenborough special about birds.

It had been a busy day for the both of them. Adam helped Aziraphale weed the garden and tend to the young apple sapling in front of the cottage.

Crowley had planted it there so they could watch it grow every day when they would share a cup of coffee in the morning or a cup of tea in the evening. They would sit on the porch swing and watch the wind blow through its leaves and finches take rest on its limbs.

It would be another two years before the tree began to bear fruit.

“Just in time for our fifth anniversary,” Aziraphale told Adam as he spritzed the leaves with purified water.

“Maybe Uncle Ant can make an apple cake,” Adam said.

“There wouldn’t be fully developed apples at that time, dear. But, it would still be a special occasion. It was an apple tree that started this whole thing.”

“Everything, really.”

Aziraphale looked at Adam and grinned. “Yes, I suppose so.”

After tending to the garden, they freshened up, put Dog on his leash, and caught the bus at the end of the road.

Today was the farmers market at King John’s Nursery and it was Adam’s first visit. Aziraphale and Crowley went as often as they could, picking up fresh teas, local produce, and, of course, shopping for new plants in the nursery.

Adam got a huge jar of honey for his father, who loved putting it on his toast every morning. He bought a lovely stationery set for his mother, and for The Them he bought small pies, one for each. 

“I’ll just get them all one flavor so there isn’t a fuss,” he told Aziraphale, picking up three strawberry pies.

“What about _you_ , dear boy?”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t want anything.”

“Oh, come now, darling,” Aziraphale said. “How about a plant from the nursery?”

“The nursery is nice, Uncle Ezra, but I didn’t see anything in there that interested me.”

“Very well, then. It’s awfully kind of you to get souvenirs for your loved ones, dear.”

Aziraphale picked up a dozen fresh eggs and a jar of honey for himself, as well as fresh vegetables and herbs and a whole chicken for dinner that night.

“Did I ever tell you that I personally dined with Julia Child?” he asked Adam as they carried their totes full of goodies to the bus stop.

“Who’s that?”

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. “Oh, my boy, she was a world renowned chef from America. She was a culinary genius of French cuisine. I happened to meet her back in the 1970s while I was in France on business. She was on holiday with her husband. Delightful man, he was. They were both great hosts. She had a cooking program on American television, and one of her famous recipes was roasted chicken.”

“Sounds pretty plain, though,” Adam commented. 

“That may be, but she personally cooked it for me and it was the best meal I ever had. And do you know what else?” 

He glanced at the people next to them waiting for the bus and he leaned closer to Adam and whispered, “I have her original, handwritten recipe in my study.”

Adam smiled. “Really?”

“Yes, dear. _Really_. You can help me cook tonight, if you’d like.”

“Sure! Do you think her telly programs are online?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m not sure. I wouldn't know where to look.”

“I know where. I bet I could find them.”

“I’d like to watch them.”

Adam laughed. “You’ve never seen it? I thought you knew her!”

“I may have known her, dear, but I didn’t _need_ to watch her on television. I saw her in action.”

“You didn’t have a telly in the ‘70s, did you, Uncle Ezra?”

Aziraphale smirked at his grinning godson. “Well, someone’s not going to pull the wishbone later.”

“What?” Adam laughed. “I was teasing!”

Aziraphale knew this and after dinner, which Adam decided was not plain at all, he pulled the wishbone from the chicken and handed it to him.

Adam stared at it and put it on his plate.

“What’s the matter?” Aziraphale asked. 

“It’s nothing,” he replied. “I...well, I wanted to wait for Uncle Ant. Pull it with him.”

Aziraphale sighed and nodded. “Of course, dear. He should be back soon.”

Now, Adam was curled up on the sofa under the blanket with Dog at his feet. They were lightly snoring as birds of paradise performed mating dances on the television.

Aziraphale lowered the volume and quietly stepped outside onto the front patio.

He was greeted by the headlights of the Bentley.

Crowley turned off the engine and looked at his husband through the windscreen.

Aziraphale stood at the top of the stairs while Crowley gripped the handle of the car door.

He thought he could see a faint smile on his angel’s face and Crowley’s heart raced as he picked up his mobile and a paper sack on the floor before getting out of the car.

He put his keys and mobile in one of his jacket pockets as he approached the cottage. 

Crowley could feel his husband’s eyes on him but he didn’t meet them. Instead, he gripped the paper sack to his side and pushed up his glasses.

He stopped at the bottom step and locked his eyes on the angel’s slippers.

“Hello, dear,” he heard him say in a soft voice.

The sound of it brought tears to his eyes and he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He set the sack on the ground and rushed up the steps where he fell into Aziraphale’s open arms.

“Angel…” he whimpered.

“Shh, darling,” Aziraphale comforted him. He began to cry, as well, as he embraced him. His grip was strong around him, as if he were afraid he would be ripped away from him again.

“Angel, I’m...I’m so sorry!” Crowley sobbed. “I’m so sorry!”

“My darling, please,” Aziraphale whispered, kissing his wet cheek. “I forgive you, my love.”

“I only said those things to hurt you.”

“It was _I_ that hurt you, my darling.” Aziraphale pressed his lips into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry for keeping my awful deed a secret for so long.”

Crowley carded his fingers through his blonde curls. “It wasn’t awful, angel. We were on defined sides in those days.”

Aziraphale’s breath hitched. “I still betrayed you.”

“Oh, angel…”

“I love you, Crowley,” he said, kissing his neck again. “I promise, I have no more secrets. If I did, I would tell you. But I was afraid of telling you that one. You were already so angry with Her, I didn’t want you to be angry with me. You were my first friend, dearest. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Crowley pressed his face against his husband’s shoulder and continued to sob as he squeezed him.

“I love you, too, my angel. I’m sorry I lost my temper. I promise to never do that again. I don’t regret anything! You were always the everlasting light in my life, and marrying you was the happiest day of my entire existence!”

Aziraphale smiled through his tears. “Oh...Crowley. I was so worried about you today.”

He pulled away and cupped his husband’s wet cheeks. “When you didn’t come home in the morning, I was afraid something had happened. Where did you go?”

Crowley sniffed and kissed Aziraphale soflty on his lips. 

The kiss was warm and loving, and he wanted to melt into it.

He sighed and Aziraphale kissed his forehead.

“Let’s have a seat, my dear,” he said, guiding him to the porch swing.

Crowley gripped his hand as they sat, and he took his glasses off his head and set them on the swing arm.

They sat in silence, watching the wind blow through the apple sapling’s young leaves in the dim porch light. 

Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s wrist with his free hand and cleared his throat.

“Another two years until fruit, yes?” he asked.

Crowley sniffed and nodded his head. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice taut. “Maybe I can make an apple cake for our anniversary.”

Aziraphale looked at him and smiled. “That’s what Adam said. You think the apples will be big enough for a cake?”

“We’ll see.”

He released Aziraphale’s hand and put his arm around his waist, pulling him closer to kiss his temple.

“I was at Kew all day,” he said.

“The gardens?” the angel asked. “We haven’t been there since...well, it was the day before we got engaged.”

“Still the same,” Crowley told him.

They looked at each other and he grinned. “I also had tea with our former ward.”

Aziraphale gave him a curious expression. “What?”

Crowley retrieved his mobile from his jacket and showed him the selfie he took in front of the patch of Venus fly traps.

It was of him and a young teen and they were sticking their tongues out at the camera with a mischievous air.

“Oh, my goodness!” Aziraphale gasped. “Is that....it’s Warlock!”

“It is, indeed,” Crowley said, smiling. 

He told him all about why they were there and of how they knew all along that Nanny and Brother Francis were really occult and ethereal beings. He said they reminisced about Francis’s hot chocolate and his little garden home, and about how sad they were when they couldn’t find them after the birthday party.

Aziraphale’s heart sink at this.

“Oh, the poor dear,” he said. “We didn’t mean to abandon them.”

“They understand that, I think, love,” Crowley assured him. “Besides, even though Nanny taught them that forgiveness was a waste of time, they forgive us.”

Aziraphale smiled again. “I can’t believe it’s been three years.”

“I gave them our address and they promised to write to you. They said hello, by the way.”

“I can’t wait to get their letter, then. We must try to get them out here for a weekend, yes? Maybe when Adam is here? After all, they’re siblings, in a way.”

“It’s not like Adam doesn’t know about them, anyhow.”

He was right; they had explained everything they could to Adam after the cancelled Armageddon, but Adam had already known quite a bit, somehow. He would ask about Warlock sometimes, but knew it was quite a difficult subject, especially for Uncle Ant.

Still, it excited Adam about the prospect of a sibling.

“What an adorable photo, too, dear. Will you send it to me?”

“Of course.” 

Crowley put his mobile in his jacket again and sniffed the air. 

“Did Julia Child rise from the dead?”

This made Aziraphale laugh. “No, but I did cook her roast chicken tonight. Adam helped. He wanted to wait until you got home before pulling the wishbone.”

Crowley smiled. “Anything left besides the wishbone?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re hungry?”

“I could eat.”

Aziraphale stood. “Come along, then.”

He watched as Crowley got up from the swing and went down the stairs to pick up the paper sack.

“What’s that?”

“Souvenir from the gardens,” Crowley said. “For Adam.”

They went inside and Crowley peeked into the den to see Adam still asleep on the sofa. He quietly stepped closer and pulled the souvenir from the sack and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.

Aziraphale sneered at it. “Oh, darling, what in the hell is that ghastly thing?”

“ _Drosera_ , angel. A sundew,” he whispered as he led his husband back to the kitchen. “It’s a carnivorous plant. Insects get caught in its sticky tendrils and the stalk curls up and crushes them.”

“Delightful,” Aziraphale said in a flat tone, taking the leftover chicken out of the warm oven. “I don’t remember those being for sale at Kew Gardens.”

“I never said I bought it.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and sighed. “Really, my dear. Again?”

“What do you mean ‘again?’”

Aziraphale scooped a plate of green beans onto the plate. “The last time we were there you took a pitcher plant.”

“No, I _rescued_ it,” Crowley reminded him. “It dropped off its stem.”

“After you ‘accidentally’ bumped into it?”

Crowley playfully squinted at him. “My dinner ready yet?”

Aziraphale placed his plate in front of him and went to pour two glasses of wine. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head as he handed him a glass.

“We have angel cake, as well,” he said, sitting next to him.

Crowley lightly tugged on his waistcoat and kissed him. “My favorite.”

\-----------------

Adam awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee and bacon and the sound of murmuring coming from the kitchen. He grunted as he raised up and stretched, making Dog turn over from his back and shake vigorously.

He spied the odd looking plant in front of him and smiled. 

“Wicked,” he whispered as he examined its gooey stalks. 

He threw the blanket off of him as he stood from the sofa. Dog followed him so that he could go outside and relieve himself and run around in the cool grass. 

Adam stopped at the edge of the kitchen and saw Crowley leaning against the sink. Aziraphale had his arms around his waist and they were passionately kissing.

Adam’s eyes widened and he decided to sneak past them, pretending not to notice this intimate moment between his godfathers.

When he made it to the door, he looked again to see that they were still concentrating on each other…

...and totally ignoring the bacon.

“Bacon’s burning,” Adam said as he rushed outside with Dog.

They both jumped at the sound of his voice and Crowley moved past Aziraphale so that he could salvage their breakfast.

**Three Months Later**

“Ezra, sit down,” Adam said. “Why are you so nervous?”

Aziraphale wringed his hands together as he sat next to him on the porch swing.

“I’m alright, dear,” he said. “I just haven’t seen them in three years. I looked quite different back then, too.”

“So did Uncle Ant, but Warlock was okay with it,” Adam assured him. “They don’t care.”

“How do you know?”

Adam smiled. “Well, I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but we’ve been talking.”

“Have you?” Aziraphale smiled, too. “How?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to them and Uncle Ant asked them for me. He told Warlock about me, anyway. So now we play video games on Twitch.”

“Do I dare ask what that is?”

“It’s just a website where people who like to play video games connect. It’s really cool. We like the same stuff.”

Aziraphale still didn’t understand, but he was happy that Adam and Warlock had already spoken. 

Warlock had told their mother that they saw Nanny at the Gardens and asked if they could spend the summer with her and Francis. Mrs. Dowling called Crowley’s number and was somehow convinced that putting her child on a bus and a few trains by themself for four hours all the way out to Sussex was a grand idea.

She trusted Nanny Ashtoreth and knew that Warlock would be taken care of while she and her husband were in America.

Over the months since their encounter at Kew Gardens, Warlock and Crowley would video chat and they soon learned the truth about the day they were born, of the disastrous baby swap, and why it had occurred in the first place.

Much to Crowley’s surprise, Warlock took the news well.

_“I mean,” they had said, “it kinda makes sense. I don’t look anything like my parents. My dad always said I had Great Grandpa Dowling’s chin, but I’ve seen that dude’s pictures and his chin is massive.”_

_“Well,” Crowley said, “you know that means that Adam is your adoptive brother?”_

_Warlock thought for a moment and nodded. “Yeah...I guess so.”_

_“What do you think?”_

_They shrugged. “Pretty cool.”_

Aziraphale’s mobile dinged and he picked it up.

“Oh, good,” he sighed with relief. “Crowley just picked them up from the train station. They must be tired after that long trip.”

\----------------------

“Oh my _Someone_ , Nanny!” Warlock groaned as they got into the Bentley. “That was the longest trip ever!”

“You wanted to take the train, love,” he told them as he started the car. He picked up a travel mug and handed it to them. “Here. I brought coffee.”

“Hell yeah!” Warlock opened it and took a big gulp.

“Easy, darling!” Crowley laughed. “It’s very hot!”

“Mmmm! I just burned my tongue but I don’t care! This is so good!”

Crowley shook his head. “You and Adam are going to get along just fine.”

“We’ve been playing video games online, Nanny.”

“Have you?”

Warlock took a smaller sip from the mug this time. “Mm-hmm. We like the same kinda games and stuff.”

They paused as they looked out of the window as the car drove through the village. 

“When can we go to the beach?” they asked.

“Not today, dear. It’s a bit late,” Crowley said. “But we have all summer.”

“Cool.”

They were silent again as they drank the still scalding coffee. 

“You know,” Crowley said, “Francis was very excited to get your letter.”

Warlock smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yep. He was going to write you back, but his letter ended up being nearly 12 pages long, front and back. So, he’s just going to give it to you.”

“I don’t mind. He can write to me all he wants. We could be pen pals.”

“Aw, that’s nice, love. He’d like that very much.”

“Do you have a garden?”

“Oh, yes, of course! We’re always out in the garden. You can help me pull weeds, if you like.”

Warlock nodded. “I used to help Francis do that. I used to pull them out and step on them. He never liked it.”

“He still doesn’t,” Crowley said with a grin. 

\--------------------

The Bentley pulled into the driveway and Aziraphale immediately stood. He walked down the steps and stopped when the car pulled into its usual spot.

Crowley got out of the driver side and smiled at him as he walked to the passenger side. He opened the door and a tall auburn-haired teenager with bright green eyes emerged.

Aziraphale smiled at them, his eyes brimming with tears.

Warlock smiled back and walked around the Bentley to him.

“Hello, Francis,” they muttered as they threw their arms around him.

Aziraphale hugged him in a tight embrace, a tear falling down one cheek.

“Oh my goodness,” he said. “Oh...oh my goodness. I can’t believe it.”

He cupped the child’s face in his warm hands and wiped away a tear with his thumb. 

“This can’t be the same little devil that used to pull up my daisies,” Aziraphale said.

Warlock laughed. “Yeah…”

He pulled them to him again and kissed their temple. “It’s good to see you, darling.”

“Mm-hmm…” was all Warlock could say. 

Adam watched them as Dog sat beside him, eagerly wagging his tail. He wanted to meet the new person and he yipped.

Warlock pulled away and looked to the porch. “Hey, Adam,” they waved.

“Hey,” he waved back.

“No emotional welcome for your long-lost sibling, young man?” Crowley playfully scolded him.

Adam jumped from the porch and dramatically threw open his arms, shouting, “Warlock!”

“Argh, Adam!” they screamed back and the children ran into one another in a melodramatic embrace.

They were soon on the ground, hugging and wailing as if they were in a climactic finale in a BBC Victorian miniseries.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You little hellions.”

“You must be proud, dear,” Aziraphale said as he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Great Pretender" was recorded by The Platters in 1955. Freddy Mercury recorded a cover of the song in 1987.
> 
> I plan to write another fic with Warlock and Adam so stick around. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please don't by shy; leave a review! <3


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